Could he support Harper and the baby the way they needed it? Money wasn’t a concern, he could provide that. He’d already spoken to the Human Resources department and arranged for Harper’s medical expenses to be covered, along with the baby that would be arriving before the year was out. He could afford to buy Harper a house, to pay child support, and provide for all the baby’s material needs.
But that was all he was sure of.
Pregnant women and new mothers needed strong, steady support; they deserved it. When Sara had been throwing up, or in the latter months of her pregnancy had suffered from sleepless nights and anxiety, James had been the one she had leaned on. He’d relished his role, delighting in being the strong one. And after birth, he’d loved cradling Jacob in his arms in the middle of the night to allow Sara to get one more hour of sleep. He’d raced home from work each night with a bag of takeout in one hand and a cupcake from the bakery in the other, so excited to see the beautiful family they’d created together.
And then it had been cruelly whipped away. More than most he understood the fickle whims of nature, how easily life could be given and taken away. It was part of his job, after all. But when it affected him personally he hadn’t been prepared for the sheer and constant pain, nor for the blackness that seemed to follow him no matter where he went.
To provide the sort of care Harper and their baby needed, was to risk walking into the darkness again. To open the door to joy was to open the door to misery, too. He winced at the thought of it.
James let out a mouthful of air. What would Sara say if she knew what he’d gotten himself into? Would she be happy he was having another child, or devastated he would be replacing the perfect baby they’d made together?
Taking a sip of the whiskey he’d poured before he walked out to the deck, he closed his eyes, taking in the sound of the ocean as it lapped against the cliffs below. They’d talked about childproofing the house, the deck, and making sure there was no chance of Jacob being able to reach the cliff at the end of the yard, but in the end he’d died before they’d needed to do any of it. Would James have to do it now? Would he ask Harper for shared custody of their child? Have the little one every other weekend, or whatever kind of arrangements worked around her business and his shifts?
Another sip. He let the whiskey burn the back of his throat, warming him as it trickled down. Rich had said something about having so many questions, but they paled to insignificance compared to all the thoughts racing through James’s head.
Putting his glass down on the wooden table next to his Adirondack chair, James picked up his phone and unlocked it, scrolling through his contacts until he found Harper’s. He stared at it for a moment, picturing her warm eyes and pink-blonde hair. The hint of a smile curled at his lips.
If he wanted answers, she probably did, too, and there was only one way to get them.
It was time to face the music and arrange to meet her. They had a baby to talk about.
9
Week thirteen. Welcome to the second trimester! Most women will find their nausea begins to abate, unless they’re one of the unlucky ones who suffer until the baby is born. Fingers crossed that’s not you, my friend! But on the positive side, you will have more energy – and your partner will be happy to know your sex drive could increase, too. Make the most of it, we say. Maybe look at booking a babymoon to spend quality time with your partner. After the birth you may never want sex again. (Just kidding. Kinda.)
Harper stuffed the rest of the chocolate bar into her mouth and grabbed a glass of milk to wash it down, turning off her phone and the weekly countdown she’d stupidly clicked on. Babymoon? Ha! Though she really should go to that yoga class she’d looked into. Maybe she’d do that when she wasn’t spending every hour awake at her sewing machine, making enough dresses for next week’s photoshoot.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you today?” Caitie asked, walking into the kitchen, her hands fastening her earring. “I can cancel this meeting.”
“No, I’ll be fine,” Harper said. “I’m meeting James in a public place. And Nate and Ally will be working at the coffee shop. If he tries to do anything, I’m sure one of them will vault over the counter and karate chop him.”
Caitie chuckled, shaking her head. “I was more worried what you might do to him. Your bump won’t look good in orange.”
A smile played at the corner of Harper’s lips. “I’ll have you know I can rock orange. But anyway, we’re just meeting to talk, that’s all. He called last night and sounded very nice about it all.”
“He’s a nice guy,” Caitie said. “But seriously, if you need anything, just call, okay? And I want to hear all the details later.”
“Of course.” Harper nodded, her expression mock-serious. “You’ll get them along with all the grisly details. Unless I’ve been arrested that is.” She poked her tongue out, and Caitie rolled her eyes.
An hour later Harper wasn’t finding it quite so funny. Her stomach was churning as she walked toward the coffee shop overlooking the beach. Even outside, the aroma of coffee was strong, mixing with the sweet smell of pastries that made her mouth water.
James was already there. Sitting at a table right outside the open glass doors, his long denim-encased legs stretched out in front of him as he read one of the free newspapers you could pick up from the rack beside the counter. Harper stared at him for a moment. His dark hair looked like he’d recently had it cut, and his skin was warm and tan. Unlike when she’d seen him at the resort or the hospital he hadn’t shaved, and the dark shadow around his jaw made her heart flip a little.
Maybe that weekly countdown was right about the sex drive thing. She decided to test it out, looking around the shop to see if there was another guy near her age that made her pulse start the hundred yard dash down her veins. But no, there was Frank Megassey in the corner, gossiping with Lorne Daniels, the owner of the surf shop, and apart from them the tables were mostly full of women.
Harper turned back to the deck, blowing out a mouthful of air as she looked at James once again. His dark shirt was smooth on his body, emphasizing his wide shoulders, defined biceps, and the rise and fall of his pectorals. If she’d been in Hollywood she would have assumed he was an actor. But here in Angel Sands he was just another good looking guy.
One who happened to be the father of her baby.
As if he could feel her scrutiny, James put the paper down on the table in front of him and slowly turned toward her. Their gazes caught, and his brows rose with recognition. He got to his feet, and she was shocked once again by how tall he was. Out of his tux – and his scrubs – he looked more relaxed, like any other guy sitting outside a coffee shop, watching the ocean lap against the shore. When he began to walk toward her Harper realized she hadn’t moved an inch.
“Hi.” He came to a stop in front of her. “I grabbed us a table outside. Thought we could probably both do with soaking up some vitamin D. Would you like a coffee?”
“A decaf latte would be great.”
“Decaf. Of course.” He smiled at her and it hit her right in her thighs. Was she blushing? She never blushed. She prided herself on being cool, calm, and confident. It had been instilled in her since birth, after all.
Damn you second trimester sex drive.